


Workplace Shenanigans

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Library Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orion Pax gives his girlfriend a special tour of the Hall of Records, with Alpha Trion eavesdropping near its end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Workplace Shenanigans

Alpha Trion didn't put himself under any illusions that his job was important; one of Primus' own molded warriors, demoted to caretaking leagues of dusty archives so he'd be out of Sentinel's way. It was hard to stave off bitterness when your successor was on a constant campaign to soil the planet.

At least Sentinel been kind enough to give him a student, a project to take his processor off all his lost glory. Orion reminded him much of Quintus Prime; a quiet mech who preferred reading words to saying them out loud, gazing through glass at the relic displays and flicking through centuries old encrypted datapads just before filing them away. With optics as old as his Trion could hardly see five steps in front of him, let alone squint to read microscopic accounts of better days. 

Cybertron might have been saved from Sentinel if more mechs like Orion weren't banished to the sterile gloominess of wallowing in its past. Work breaks would find him cloistered in the shadow of a towering shelf, with a digital tome in his lap and the unbroken concentration of wistful youth. 

At least, that was what _usually_ happened. His choice of corner spot changed every day, but he was known to have favourites- one had light flickering through a rare window, another had a particularly interesting section of old religious texts. During Alpha Trion's habitual rounds of the Hall, his student wasn't to be found in any of them. 

He was almost starting to worry before he heard the whispers three aisles away. 

"Orion... you're going to get us in so much trouble-"

A femme that only just managed to pass off the pretense of 'innocent bystander', from the failing effort she put into hiding mewls, with a mech that surely couldn't always be as well-behaved as he looked. Trion couldn't even feign shock; he was an old mech even by Cybertronian standards, immune to surprise at just how ridiculous the generations could be the younger they were. For some reason, the most bizarre follies always involved interface. 

Well, he was certain Orion had once mentioned meeting a lovely girl called...

"Only if we get caught, Ariel."

That was the one, a muffled name against what could only be neck cables. Knowing full well any rational and polite mech would either march in to pry them away or walk away pretending he hadn't heard a thing, Alpha Trion tuned his audios in further. He'd survived millions of stellar cycles and a war against a demon; curiosity held no threat to the likes of him. 

"And we _will_ get cau-" Ariel was only just starting to amp up her performance when a scrape of metal against metal and a squeak cut her short. Trion couldn't help picturing the metal as an ancient data cylinder being knocked to the ground, and only just barely stopped himself running in to save it. 

"Not if we stay _very, very_ quiet... after all, we are in a library." Orion's low groan was answered by a flurry of giggles jumped up by a moan. If _this_ is what they called quiet, then their audios were in even worse shape than Trion's own, which eventually forced him to slink in closer along the shelf aisles. 

"Ah... don't make me laugh, Orion."

Trion kept himself flat against the end of a wide section stretching high into the ceiling, finding a moderate gap between two separate cabinets. Mindful of clattering armour he edged himself near it, leaning down to look through into the incriminating scene. 

Even from the tiny viewpoint pink armour littered the floor, chestplates clattering to the femme's peds as Orion's black hands slid the clasps open. One servo held her hips while the other braced himself against a (graciously empty) storage shelf, holding her back against it. The twisting of Ariel's faceplate, lips scored by denta, moans leaking through otherwise silent grins and the slow rocking of Orion's hips against her; a rabid Insecticon could have flown in and she wouldn't have noticed. 

It had been a long time since Alpha Trion had made a femme felt like that, yet he couldn't help smiling despite the vulgarity of it all. 

Orion still had some klicks until he was due at the Vaults for relic catalouging. He'd leave them to it until them. After all, he'd been young once.

Even so, where there was an opportunity for shenanigans...

"Orion." He dampened his vocaliser and held a hand over his mouth, giving his voice the impression of coming from twenty aisles away rather than just one.

The abruptness of Orion's hips stopping mid-thrust threatened to buckle Trion with laughter. "Yes, sir?" Even with a burst of static to clear the clerk's voice, the arousal thickening it was unmistakable. Ariel herself looked like she was about to fall out of his servos, her grip on his shoulders the only thing keeping her upright.

"Make sure you put away all the datapads when you are done with them," Trion continued, tone expertly neutral. "You know I dislike mess."

Orion managed to hide his sigh of relief against Ariel's chestplates, pressing his faceplate deep into them. "Of course, sir."

Taking his leave as silent the ghosts of history, Alpha Trion made an urgent mental note to have Orion decontaminate the entire Quintesson Military Records section the following solar cycle.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know about you, but shenanigans is my all time favourite word.


End file.
